


left for black and blue

by transcowboy



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Denial of Feelings, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Suicidal actions, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transcowboy/pseuds/transcowboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Session 16: Black Dog Serenade</p><p>Jet returns to the Bebop wounded, and is confronted by an angry and worried Spike.</p><p>Or, AU where Spike more openly cares about Jet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	left for black and blue

It was Jet who sat, tending to his own wounds on the worn, yellow couch of the Bebop. Spike had seemed just like his normal self when he came back, asking rather impassively where Jet had been. Jet made up an excuse, and had tried his best to hide his wound until he was on his own again, upon which he had almost collapsed. He had managed to get the first aid kit, however, and was in the process of bandaging the stab wound on his leg, which was bleeding heavily again thanks to the strain of walking. He had just finished bandaging it when the staircase door hissed open, and footsteps he knew only to be Spike's approached.

He rolled down his jumpsuit leg then, trying to hide his wound, and looked up, only to see Spike in front of him, looking... concerned?

Concern was an emotion Jet didn't have the privilege of seeing on Spike's face very often.

"You're injured." Spike stated simply then, hands tucked into his pockets.

Jet sighed, and sat up. No use trying to hide it anymore, he supposed. "Yeah, I am. So?"

"...You went off without telling me or Faye. You asked Ed to water your bonsai trees. Why would you ever ask Ed to do that?" he furrowed his brows.

Jet frowned then, looking up at Spike confusedly. "What does it matter to you? I went out, and I got a little hurt. It happens, Spike."

"Not with you, it doesn't. This isn't like you, Jet. You know we need you on the Bebop.” Spike shot back, quickly growing impatient with the excuses.

"So what, I asked Ed to do something for me. She has to do something around here when we don't have any jobs going, so I figured I might as well get her started with some stuff to do. What the hell's gotten into you anyway, Spike?"

"What's gotten into me? What's gotten into _you_ , Jet? Your bonsai trees are your most prized possessions. You'd never put them at risk if you could really help it."

"Jesus Christ, Spike.” Jet cradled his head in his hands for a moment then, warding off a headache. "What're you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is this; you didn't intend to come back. Wherever you went, it was meant to be a one way trip, and you just got lucky. That's why you're here now."

"If you're trying to say that I'm suicidal, then you're certainly one to talk. What about all the times you've run off for no reason, and came back with a bullet in you? All the times you've almost died, and all the hospital bills we've had to pay? What you're saying is a bunch of fucking _hypocrisy_."

Spike literally growled at that. "That's not the same, Jet. Just _listen to me_ for a second, damnit!"

"No, you listen to me!" Jet shouted back, raising his voice above Spike's and forcing himself up to his feet. "You don't care whether you live or die! You never care! But when I do one thing for myself, you're all over my ass! You're a hypocrite, Spike!"

By now, everyone else on the ship had most likely heard their shouting, and neither of them doubted that their comrades were completely unsurprised by the sounds.

"Why do you have to care so damn much? This is about you, not me!" Spike hissed, his voice cracking despite himself. Fuck.

"You..." Jet stumbled, not expecting that little break in Spike's voice. "O-of course this is about you! Who's the one who always patches you up after fights? Me! Who's the one who always has your back? Me! I can't have your back if you keep running off on your own like an idiot!" He swallowed, lowering his voice a bit.. "...Who's the one who spent those lonely nights with you? Me."

Spike froze, losing his expression of anger for a moment. It quickly returned, however, and he pretended he hadn't heard him. "You know what? I want to keep running off on my own. It's better than having to deal with you and your _bullshit_." Spike spat then, before turning on the balls of his feet and quickly heading to the docking bay. He needed to get out of here, and clear his mind before this got any more out of hand.

Jet's breath was heavy when Spike left abruptly then, most likely heading for his ship, and he collapsed back exhaustedly onto the couch with a groan, head in his hands once more. He couldn't stop Spike from leaving permanently, not if that was what he really wanted.

Jet just had to hope that he didn't.

...God, now he really did have a headache.


End file.
